think thin
by cheeer33
Summary: I've never been all that skinny before. Like ever. Like in my entire life. But this is my summer. And this is my time, and I know, if it's the last thing I'm going to do, I'm going to BE one of those girls! saku x multi.


**author:** cheeer33

**summary:** I've never been all that skinny before. Like ever. Like in my entire life. But this is my summer. And this is my time, and I know, if it's the last thing I'm going to do, I'm going to BE one of those girls! saku x multi.

**a/n: wow. okay, first story. and yes, this will be stereotypical. WITH A SPIN. cause I'm cool like that. anyways, these are kind of my own thoughts, although I'm not really all that big. I just want to be super small... so I can be a flyer next cheer season. anyways, enjoy!**

**disclaimer: **the characters in this story don't belong to me, and I also don't own the cover image... it belongs to 'polly-chan' on deviantart! THEY HAVE AMAZING ART! check it out, and comment, and love it, because it's fantastic ;)

normal story (3rd person)

_thoughts or emphasis_

more emphasis

LOTS OF EMPHASIS

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**think thin**

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**chapter one: if only**

_... imagine all the people ..._

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Sometimes, I like to pretend that I'm popular. That I'm one of those beautiful girls that everybody looks up to. When I think about it, I picture myself as somebody straight off of a Cover Girl magazine. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect _body._

But you see that last one? It's probably the biggest reason why that little fantasy of mine is never going to come true. It's not that I'm 300 pounds or anything... I'm just... fat. Okay, so that word's a little harsh. I sometimes even have trouble thinking it, let alone saying it out loud. But at least I can pretend I'm not self conscious in my head. Want me to paint a picture of the real me?

Imagine long, wiry pink hair (which_ is_ natural by the way... don't judge!), and sparkling emerald green eyes - now, this probably would have been my best feature, if not for the ugly square glasses I try to hide behind. Yeah, it's bad when even the person that wears them thinks they're gross. Thing is, my parents are rich. And when I say rich, I mean _filthy_ rich. But the problem with being filthy rich, is that the second people find out about it they try to use you for your money. Yes, this does happen in real life. And it really sucks. So, me being the I-wanna-prove-myself idiot I am, opted for the cheapest looking pair I could find. In retrospect, horrible idea.

But anyways, back to the story. On said face I was talking about, notice acne. Don't get me wrong, it's not a disgusting amount... but what with everything going on everywhere else, it certainly doesn't help the picture. Now... zoom out. What do you see? Well, you see a double chin, sagging arms, a protruding stomach, and legs big enough you could mistake them for logs. Not the prettiest thing ever, if you can imagine.

I'm aware that these things are most of the reasons I get picked on. It's not like I do it on purpose or anything... it just kind of happened. Around when I was 10, my mom was diagnosed with degenerative illness. It slowly melted her away, until I had to do the most basic things for her, from washing her hair, to making her food. Although she died by the time I was 13, those 3 years in between basically consisted of me being inside. I was already a bit on the chubby side, and with the little activity, and the abundance of food, I put on a few pounds. And then I put on some more. And then some more. And do I really have to keep going?

Summing up the story, I got past the point of no return. I've tried exercising, _really!_ But it's not as easy as you'd think. It's so hard to stay motivated, and I try my hardest to maintain a high grade average, which involves me studying a lot. Since I'm at home alone most of the time (my dad's a huge big shot lawyer, and I never really see him), I end up snacking during my studying. Except for I keep snacking, until it becomes this large continuous meal.

Maybe if I had friends I'd be able to keep myself going. But I don't. I have acquaintances at school, people I say hi to in the halls, but that's as far as it ever goes. Sometimes I get caught up in what might have been. It all seems so far away, yet all so close. Partially because I used to be close friends with the popular kids. Thats right, I was inches away from the future I want. Mind you, there was really no such thing as popularity when we were in grade school, but we were still the people everyone wanted to be friends with. It was the year my mom got sick that we all drifted apart. Sure, at first we were still tight... but as I missed more and more school and had less time for them, everyone just sort of... moved on. It's not that I wasn't mad or anything, I just... for better use of the word, understood. I don't hold a grudge against any of them... I just wish... I wish we were all still friends.

I'm actually not even sure if they realize I'm the same person from their childhood. I'm not positive how that's even possible, considering I'm probably the only person _ever_ to have pink hair, but the other day in English, Naruto (one of my old best friends) commented, "You remind me a lot of Sakura-chan! Even look a bit like her too." and everyone had just sort of nodded in agreement.

They've never really been the ones to cause trouble for me. It's these mean, wannabe popular girls, with their fake smiles and numbing glares. They always make fun of me, mocking me with their anorexic-ly thin bodies, flaunting it in my face. They act like they own me. Sometimes I wonder if they do.

Letting out a small sigh, I push the thought from my head. I can't dwell on things I can't change. Grabbing a large folded skirt (courtesy of my lovely maid, Hana) off of my dresser, (which is part of the school uniform... very stereotypical) I slowly inch it up my legs. By the time I get it to my waist, I'm wincing slightly in discomfort. It's tighter than I remember it. Glancing in the mirror, my eyes narrow even further. Folds of fat are sticking out from the waist band of the skirt, and I glare at my own image in self hatred. I've already gotten the skirt altered once (the skirt sizes at my school don't get any larger than an extra large), and it would just be plain embarrassing to get it altered again. Huffing, I slip my arms through my blouse, trying to hide the painstakingly obvious muffin top.

Once I've finished getting ready, you can hardly see the fat heaping over the sides of the skirt. Or at least I'm hoping you can't. Sluggishly walking down the stairs, I see a large display of food the cook must have prepared for me. Glancing at it for a second longer, a thought crosses my mind: that awkward moment when your breakfast is big enough to feed three people.

By the time I've gotten in my car and start the drive to school, I have about 20 minutes until class starts. It will only take me 5 minutes to get to school, so I'll have 15 minutes to actually get to my classroom. Nodding in approval, I pull into the parking lot of Konoha Prep School, a prestigious high school that my dad bought my way into. It's most of the reason I try to get good grades, so that I feel like I'm actually supposed to be there.

As I find an empty parking spot close to the school entrance, I pull my book bag out of the back of my car, and slip it around my shoulder. Beginning my trudge into the school, I grimace at the looks I'm getting from a tall, thin brunette and her blonde friend. I try to ignore them, keep my head up high, pretend I can't hear them, but my head ends up drooping down and a frown appears on my lips. I can practically feel the satisfaction that's rolling off them in waves, and I speed up my walk to a half jog.

My locker is only at the end of the hall, but I'm still out of breath by the time I get there. Letting out hard, ragged breaths, I ball my chubby hands in fists and attempt to lower my speeding heartbeat. Once I feel a little bit better, though I'm still wheezing slightly, I begin to twist the dial on my lock, getting it wrong twice before it finally swings open.

As the door opens, a small pamphlet flutters from the top of the locker to the ground, and I can hardly tell what it says, even with my glasses on. Bending slightly (and ignoring the laughter behind me, which I'm sure is about the skirt), I grasp the piece of paper, and read the cover, my eyes widening more and more with each word. **THINK THIN!**

I've seen this logo before. It's for a weight loss company, which has established dietitians and personal trainers on stand by. Basically, whoever put this in my locker thinks I need to drop a few pounds. My cheeks glow red, burning in humiliation, and I quickly jam the paper into my bag before anybody can see it. But the damage is already done, and I can feel a horrible stirring begin in my stomach.

However, before I can start to ponder whether or not hiding in the bathroom is a good idea, the bell rings, signaling the beginning of classes. Realizing I can't back out now, I slam my locker shut and try to wipe my eyes clean of any traces of tears. I can't give them the satisfaction of knowing that they've hurt me. I'll do my best to smile, and seem alright.

The smile is more of a grimace, though, but nobody seems to notice.

As I walk into my homeroom class, I belatedly notice that not a lot of people have showed up yet. Most kids come in a couple minutes late, so it's not that surprising. By the time I've gotten settled in my seat near the back (which probably isn't a good idea, considering my horrible eyesight), a couple more kids have filtered in. My teacher, Miss. Hagasaki is standing at the front, beginning to drone on about something or another. Today, I'm not in the mood to listen and take notes, despite the fact that exams are going to begin in a little over a week. I just need to cool off.

For half of the class, which is technically History, I zone off into a foggy state of mind, doodling with a leaky pen on a piece of note paper. I absolutely love to draw, although I'll admit this is hardly any piece of art. Once I've finished a demented looking penguin, I go to slip the paper back into my bag, when the pamphlet catches my eye again. I try not to draw too much attention to myself as I slip it out, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Inside, the pamphlet lists what the program entails, followed by a list of highly recommended personal trainers. The last page has a list of testimonials, and my eyes widen when I recognize a name. Glancing towards a now thin Choji, my emerald eyes slide into a snake like glare,_ that's how he got skinny the summer before grade 9!_ That little tool said it was from swimming at his family's lake. Liar.

Although I definitely disagree with Choji lying about his story, I'm still intrigued. It might have been put into my locker as a prank, but reading all of the stories, it seems rather legit. Seeing my old friend's name listed there only gives me a better feeling about it. Sneakily slipping it back in my bag, I hum to myself at the prospect of this... of being _thin._

I've never been all that skinny before. Like ever. Like in my entire life. But this is _my_ summer. And this is my time, and I know, if it's the last thing I'm going to do, I'm going to BE one of those girls!

And suddenly? It all seems_ possible_.

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_... this is not a drive by a-a-a-ay ..._

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My house is empty when I enter it at the end of the day, the only other sound being the radio blaring in the corner. Setting down my keys on the kitchen counter, I place my bag on top of a bar stool and move towards the fridge. Reaching a hand in, I spot an untouched cupcake from my dad's company party last weekend. Smiling, I wrap my fingers around it, my mouth practically watering at the thought of tasting it's sugary goodness.

However, just as I'm about to sink my teeth into it, a voice on the radio gets my attention, "_Are you sick of being overweight? Of being made fun of?"_ I feel like I'm part of a corny movie, but nod nonetheless, _"Then put down that cupcake-"_

HOW DID THEY KNOW?

_"-and pick up the phone right now! Here, at **THINK THIN!** we try our best to do two things: build your confidence and make you healthy. __But__ there are only a couple spaces left for our summer program, so call today!"_

Without putting another thought into it, I slam the uneaten cupcake back into my fridge and reach across the counter to a cordless phone. Pressing my large fingers into the numbers as instructed, I can't help but think that this all must be fate. I mean, what are the chances?

After I've finished typing it in, I hear a dull beeping in the background. It goes on for another couple seconds, before a cheerful recorded voice answers, _"Welcome to **THINK THIN!**, where __you're__ our number one priority! If you'd like to speak to customer service, please press 1, if you'd like to apply, press 2, if you'd like-"_ I don't hear any more of the drone because I've already pressed the second number.

For two minutes, a little compilation of folk music blares through the phone, and I have it a couple of centimeters away from my ear. Once I hear the tell tale sign of someone picking up, I glue the phone back to my side. This time, a person's actually on the other end of the line. _"Hello, my name is Sakura, how can I help you?"_

I blink towards the phone for a couple of seconds, once again wondering what the odds were. I've never even met another girl named Sakura. Apparently it isn't that popular of a name around Konoha City. However, after the women repeats a hasty hello, I realize I should probably respond. Probably.

"Oh. Um, hi!" I try to sound as cheery as possible, "My names Sakura too actually... isn't that weird? Imean, notmany people have that name around here, you know?" oh god. I've started rambling. "What are the freaking odds?Not much, I'm sure. I mean this one time-"

_"Miss,"_ she laughs slightly, _"may I ask what the point is?"_

A blush sparks in my cheeks, and I start babbling again, before I stop myself and speak my next words carefully, "I'm looking for a personal trainer actually. I want to loose weight by the beginning of next year. Like the school year." I can't believe I'm actually doing this.

_"How__much?"_

What?

_"How much weight?"_

Oh. I blink again, did she just read my mind or something? "Well... I was thinking maybe 50 pounds. Is that too much?"

She laughs lightly, _"No, I'm sure that we can do it. Although I already have a client for this summer, I have a friend that would be perfect for you. Could we set up a meeting in person?"_

It's this moment that I realize this is actually going to happen... if I make this appointment, I could really be thin. I see a flash of myself, of the me I want to be. Thin, _beautiful_. This future isn't out of my reach anymore, and all I have to say was... "Sure. How about this weekend, on Friday?" I smile slightly to myself, proud of how casual I sound.

_"I'm sure that will work. What time and where?"_

"Have you ever seen that little cafe on the corner of Maine? How about there, at 5:30?"

_"Okay, I'll tell her to meet you there. How will she know you?"_

To this, I just laugh, "Trust me, she will."

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_... you break a bone, got me on my knees. you break my heart, just to watch me bleed ..._

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Friday comes way quicker than I thought it would, and I find myself sitting in a seat in the cafe (turns out it's called Ichiraku's, and I guess it could be called more of a restaurant than a cafe. I always hear about it from Naruto, and apparently they have amazing ramen), rubbing my sweaty palms together in a fit of nervousness.

When she finally walks through the door, I instantly know that she is the women I am looking for. I can tell that she thinks the exact same thing, because she spots me and does a half smile, making her way over to me. She lets out a rough, strong laugh, as she takes a seat across from me, "You know, Sakura said that I would just 'know you', and I can finally see what she was saying. Your name's Sakura too, right? You remind me a lot of my apprentice, actually."

The women is friendly, although a little rough around the edges, with blonde hair in two pig tails and a rather large chest. She looks a lot younger than her voice sounds, and I quietly wonder if it's because she's a personal trainer. "Was the women that I talked to on the phone the other day your apprentice?"

She gives me a small nod, smiling at me bemusedly, although I later realize she was actually focusing on my hair, "How weird for you to both have pink hair. You're the first people I have ever met in my entire life to have it. Must mean you're special, too."

That makes me grin, although it's a bit more small and shy than I would like it to be, "Does that mean you can help me?"

She grins back, "Oh, I can _definitely_ help you."

And really, that was the start of it all.

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**a/n: is it good? do you like it? do you reeeaaallly want me to write another chapter right now? I'm really hoping so. I worked hard on that :P but anyways, I would really appreciate some feedback, and so if you could press that button at the bottom, I'd be so happy!**

**if you review... I'll be your best friend?**

**(who else said that when they were younger? LOL)**

**cheeer33**


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